


A Gift or Two

by sophisticus



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Just smut, No Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-30 08:54:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8526874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophisticus/pseuds/sophisticus
Summary: Delilah Lavellan goes to her quarters for some rest; Cullen surprises her with a gift.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a snippet of what I'm working on for NaNoWriMo this year! Enjoy!

“I believe I will place a bet of…four silvers.” Josephine gave the cards in her hand a confirmatory peek before sliding the money to the center of the table. Next to her, Varric snorted.

“You don’t have a hand worth six silvers,” he accused. He leaned forward, staring down the Antivan. “You’re bluffing.”

If the dwarf’s accusation got to her, the ambassador didn’t show it. “If you believe it to be a bluff, master Tethras, then by all means, raise it,” she replied politely.

Varric examined his cards closely; beside them, Cassandra and Delilah looked on in amusement. Delilah peeked at her own cards while Varric grumbled to himself. It had taken several games played with Varric, the Iron Bull, and sometimes Sera, but she felt like she was finally starting to get the hang of Wicked Grace. At any rate, it was about time she won back her money that Josephine had skillfully won from her the first time they’d all played together.

“I see your four,” the dwarf said at length, pushing his bet forward into the pile in the center, “and I raise you…six.”

“Not feeling very lucky tonight, dwarf?” Iron Bull laughed from the other side of the table. The qunari tipped back his flagon and gulped down a mouthful of ale, then belched. “Too bad. I see your six, and raise you a gold.”

Delilah wrinkled her nose as she stared at her cards. Across from her, Varric took notice. “Too rich for your taste, Sunny?” he teased. Delilah stuck her tongue out at him.

“I just recently bought a new set of armor,” she replied. “I’m a little short on cash at the moment, that’s all.”

“You’re going to be even shorter by the time I’m finished,” Varric chuckled.

“And I still won’t even be as short as you,” Delilah shot back, and everyone else at the table chuckled.

“Ach! You wound me,” the dwarf said overdramatically, placing a hand to his heart in mock agony. “I’ll have your money yet. What’s your bet?”

Delilah hummed thoughtfully, examining her cards again. “I’ll see your one gold, Bull,” she said slowly, sliding it to the pile in the middle, “but that’s all.”

“Do you have a poor hand tonight, Lady Lavellan?” Josephine asked, feigning indifference. Delilah gave her a sly smile.

“We’ll just have to see, won’t we, Lady Montilyet?” the Inquisitor said lightly. “Cullen told me all of your tells, you know.”

Josephine gave a daintily offended sniff at the accusation. “As I told him, a lady has no tells. Besides, even if I did, I highly doubt Commander Cullen would be able to pick up on them. And it’s not as if you don’t have tells of your own.” The Antivan gave a pointed glance to Delilah’s pointed ears, which couldn’t help but to twitch whenever she was under stress. As if to betray her, they gave a subtle but visible tic under everyone’s stare.

“Alright, alright!” Delilah said loudly over everyone’s guffawing. She felt herself turning a little red in the face beneath her freckles, but she sat up straighter and cleared her throat. “Cassandra, it’s your bet.”

Beside her, Cassandra gave a heavy sigh. “I can never remember which cards mean what,” she grumbled. A moment later, she pushed a single gold piece forward. “I see your one gold, that’s it.”

“No bravado for the Seeker?” Varric probed with a grin. Cassandra glowered in return, but didn’t deign to answer.

“Alright, if everyone has placed their bets,” Josephine interrupted, “it is time to show your cards.” One by one, everyone showed their hand, and Iron Bull crowed in triumph.

“Hell yeah!” he chortled, scooping up the pile of money. “The eyepatch wins me yet another round.”

“What’re you going to spend all that on?” Varric asked as he stood, stretching to release the kinks from his neck. Everyone else stood as well, dusting off their clothes or massaging away the soreness of sitting still for the past two hours.

“More beer, of course,” Bull scoffed, getting another laugh out of everyone.

“Are you up for one more round, Ruffles?” the dwarf asked. Josephine waved a hand lightly.

“Oh no, it is far too late in the evening,” she replied. “Thank you, but I must be getting to bed.” With a light curtsy, the ambassador swept out the tavern door.

“What about you, Sunny? Seeker?”

Both Cassandra and Delilah shook their heads. “I too must retire for the evening,” the Nevarran replied. “As should you, we’re all leaving for the Western Approach in the morning.”

“Yes, Varric, or do you want to lose more money before we leave?” Delilah teased. Varric held his hands up in surrender.

“Alright, alright,” he relented with a laugh. “Just checking. I’ll see you two in the morning, then.”

The two women bid him goodnight, then turned and left. “I suppose it’s a good thing I didn’t call Josephine on her bluff,” Delilah said offhandedly. She shivered and pulled her jacket closer around her body; at this time of night, especially up in the mountains, the air became downright frigid. “Since Bull had the winning hand.”

“I still fail to understand the concepts of that game,” Cassandra replied. She puffed hot breath into her clasped hands to warm them. The sparse grass crunched lightly under their feet, stiff with frost. “Are the snakes worth more than the lions? And why do angels trump emperors?”

“Beats me,” the elf sighed. “These human games tend to do little more than to leave me more confused, as well as more spent out of money, than when I began.”

“I know what you mean.” They walked in silence for a minute more, both of them heading up the steps into the main hall. Eventually, Cassandra spoke again. “Back there, you mentioned Commander Cullen. It seems the two of you have become somewhat serious.”

Delilah gave a surprised laugh. “Is that a question?”

“No, I’m not questioning it, I’m just…I’m happy for you, is all I mean to say,” the Seeker said hastily. “I’m glad that both you and he are finding some solace in one another. Neither of you have had an easy time of any of this, and it is good to see some happiness coming out of all this chaos. You _are_ happy, are you not?”

Delilah hummed thoughtfully, turning to glance back at the tower that housed Cullen’s office and bedroom. “Yes, we are,” she said at length. “You’re right, it hasn’t been easy for either of us, but sometimes we can manage to forget about it all, even if for just a little while. Sometimes that’s all we need.”

Cassandra smiled. “Being in love suits you.”

Delilah jerked to a stop, going red in the face once more. “What are you talking about?” she sputtered.

“You’re in love,” the Seeker laughed quietly. “It’s written all over your face.”

“No, my vallaslin is written all over my face,” the elf protested, pointing at the tattooed lines on her cheekbones and forehead. “I haven’t…I mean, Cullen and I haven’t…I’m not-”

Cassandra patted her on the shoulder, chuckling. “I didn’t mean anything by it,” she assured her. “I just wanted to congratulate you. Goodnight, Inquisitor.” And with that, the warrior was gone, leaving Delilah alone with her indignation.

The mage huffed at the taller woman’s retreating figure before finally turning to retire to her room. She and Cullen had become very infatuated with one another, sure, but love? With a human? Delilah shook her head in disbelief as she ascended the stairs. Love was something that had been flitting around the corners of her mind the past couple of months or so, but she wasn’t ready to confront it yet.

Her thoughts turned instead to Cullen, with his soft smile and softer touch. They had finally worked up the mutual courage to make love, following their return from the Winter Palace and their romantic dance once Dutchess Florienne had been arrested. The memory, as sweet and sensual as it had been, still brought a blush to her cheeks four months later.

She pushed the door open and ascended the last flight of stairs, still lost in thought as she began shedding layers. Her jacket and scarf were tossed to the couch, and her jerkin was halfway unbuttoned before she spotted a small, paper-wrapped package sitting on her desk. She had just reached for it when a voice behind her made her jump.

“There you are, I’ve been waiting for ages.” Delilah turned, hands clasping her shirt closed, to find Cullen behind her, looking both amused and contrite. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he apologized. He turned halfway, gesturing at the ajar glass door behind him. “I must’ve stepped outside just before you came in. But if you’re getting undressed, by all means, don’t let me stop you.” His mouth twisted in a smile.

Delilah chuckled, turning to hide her blush as she resumed unbuttoning her shirt. “You only startled me a little,” she admitted. “I recognized your voice.” She felt Cullen’s eyes on her as she crossed the room to her dresser and undid her breast band with her back to him. From the dresser she retrieved a soft night shirt and pulled it on, soothing away the goosebumps raised by the chilly air. Next to go were her boots and riding pants.

“Is that my shirt?” Cullen interrupted, amused. Delilah froze in the middle of pulling on a pair of comfortable leggings.

“Uhh…perhaps,” she said evasively, finishing dressing at last. She gathered up her dirty clothes and put them in a pile in the corner. Cullen’s arms wrapped around her from behind, and she leaned back against him with a smile. He pressed a kiss against the shell of her ear, eliciting a shiver from her.

“You were going to come see me before you left for the Western Approach tomorrow, right?” he murmured.

“Of course,” the elf replied. “I’m a little surprised you’d ask, I always come see you before I leave on a mission.”

“I know, I just had a gift I wanted you to have before you left,” he explained.

Delilah glanced over at the parcel on her desk. “Is it that package?”

“Yes. Would you like to open it?” he asked eagerly. She smiled up at him.

“Of course, you know I can never resist an unopened package,” she teased. “It’s not my birthday, is it? Or some other human custom I’m unaware of?”

“No,” Cullen chuckled as she walked over and picked it up. “It’s more of a ‘just because’ kid of gift.”

It was somewhat rectangular, around an inch or two thick, and fairly heavy. Delilah pulled on the string that held the paper shut, and the paper fell away to reveal a book, plainly bound in green leather but still of unmistakable quality. She opened it, expecting it to be some historical book, or an index on herbs and their uses, or a text on magic – but it was blank.

“There’s nothing written in this,” she stated, giving Cullen a questioning stare, and her brows furrowed when he chuckled.

“It’s a notebook, for you to fill out however you want. I know you mentioned at some point wanting to write down all you know of your language, as well as all of your history, so I figured that you’d need something to write in,” he clarified, stepping close. “Here, look…” He held his hand out for the book, and Delilah handed it to him. He flipped to the front, where instead of a title page was a simple sentence: “This book belongs to the library of:” On the line below, in Cullen’s hand, was her own name. Below, a small written note: “For Delilah; create your own path and your own history. Yours, Cullen.”

Delilah smiled softly. “Cullen, I love it,” she said sincerely. The warrior smiled back happily, scratching the back of his neck.

“I’m glad,” he laughed. “I knew – I mean, I assumed, at least-”

Delilah cut him off with a soft kiss. “Thank you,” she murmured. Cullen pulled her close, his armor making the embrace slightly uncomfortable, but she didn’t care.

“You’re most welcome,” he murmured back. They kissed again, but it was broken by Delilah shivering in the chilly air. Cullen ran his hands over her arms, trying to make some friction. “Here, let me get your jacket-”

“Oh no, thank you but I’m fine,” Delilah said hastily. “I just need to get the fire going. Do you mind if I…?” She trailed off, gesturing towards the fireplace.

“Not at all.”

The mage turned to the hearth and knelt to pile some kindling, and with a flick of her wrist she set the pile ablaze. When Delilah had been first recruited to the Inquisition, Cullen had been polite but understandably wary of her. Now, a year later and well into a romantic relationship, he didn’t so much as bat an eyelid anytime she used magic. Despite this, she continued to ask if he minded before she did so; or at least, let him know so it didn’t startle him.

Delilah stood and brushed the soot from her knees, glancing outside. “It’s getting late,” she remarked.

“Ah, you probably want to get to bed then,” Cullen said, turning to leave, but he stopped when her hand caught his arm.

“No, I wasn’t trying to make you leave,” Delilah laughed. She reached up and laid her hand on his cheek, stroking his stubble with her fingertips. “It would be nice for you to stay, if that’s what you want.”

Cullen turned and pressed a kiss to the palm of her hand, giving her a shy smile. “I’d like that.”

The elf smiled back, then hooked a finger in the collar of Cullen’s armor and pulled him down so she could reach to kiss him again. His hands clasped her waist, holding her close. The kiss deepened and soon the two were breathing heavily. Delilah began tugging at the straps holding on Cullen’s armor, and he pulled away to help her.

His coat, gauntlets, and chest-plate dropped to the floor within a minute, leaving him in his undershirt and pants. Cullen’s fingers wound into her hair, gently tugging it free of its braid as their mouths met again and again. Her teeth grazed his lower lip and he jerked her closer in response; she could clearly feel his eagerness pressing against her hip through his pants. She stepped backwards, pulling him towards the bed. Her hands slid up under his shirt, over the jumping muscles in his abdomen, before pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it aside.

Delilah had seen Cullen shirtless before, both from their previous night spent together, as well as when training would get particularly hot and sweaty and Cullen would shed his shirt for comfort. His light skin was marred here and there by scars, both from blades and from magic, and she traced a fingertip over a particularly blotchy burn scar on his chest. It still amazed her how, despite all the horrors he had witnessed caused by magic, that he would not only allow himself to be so alone and vulnerable around a mage, but that he _wanted_ to be alone and vulnerable, with _her_. And he wasn’t so bad for a shem, she thought to herself with a smile.

Cullen’s hand caught hers. “Delilah…” His voice was a murmur, almost too low to hear. She kissed him again, and again, and again, until their faces were flushed. Cullen quickly pulled her shirt over her head, leaving them both in just their pants. The bed pressed against the backs of her legs and Cullen lightly pushed her until she laid on her back, the ex-templar looming above her.

“Maker, you are so beautiful,” he said reverently. He kissed her fervently as his hands slid slowly down her body. Shivers of pleasure stole over her as is fingertips traced the vallaslin that was etched into her shoulders, arms, chest, and stomach. His mouth left hers and descended to her neck, suckling soft, wet kisses to the tender skin. At the same time, his hands found her breasts and massaged firmly. He caught and rolled her nipples between his fingers, which sent shocks of heat directly to her core. His stubble scraped wonderfully on her throat, and she couldn’t help but whimper as his teeth caught on her skin.

At the noise, he pulled back with furrowed brows. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he worried.

Delilah laughed breathlessly. “Oh, Creators no, keep doing exactly what you were doing.” Cullen smiled, then lowered his head to resume. Delilah sighed in satisfaction and wound her fingers into his curls.

Cullen’s mouth dropped to her collarbone, then to her breast to suck and nip on her nipple. His mouth meandered ever lower, pausing here and there to give a languid kiss, before stopping at her hip. A finger looped into the waistband of her pants, and he paused to peek up at her. “May I?” he asked. At Delilah’s nod, he slipped her pants and underclothes both down over her knees and past her ankles before tossing the garment aside without looking where it was going. The ex-templar knelt between her knees, marveling at the sight of her laid bare before him.

Before Delilah could become self-conscious under his attention, he bent down between her thighs. Cullen kissed her mound before going lower, and Delilah was unable to stop a ragged moan from slipping out when his tongue flicked over her bud. His tongue circled her before dipping down to her opening, and circling around it. She reached down and stroked his hair as his head bobbed gently with his motions.

She was almost disappointed when his mouth returned only to her bud, but her sighs of satisfaction were interrupted with a gasp when Cullen began stroking her with his fingers as well. He sucked at her, tongue lapping rhythmically, as he slid first one, then two fingers slowly inside. Delilah squirmed and mewled under his ministrations, simultaneously wanting more to achieve her climax, and wanting it to never end.

A few more moments, and his fingers slid away, as did his mouth. The elf whined in disappointment but when she sat up on her elbows she found her lover had stood and was pushing his pants down. His length sprung free, erect and eager to get wet. Cullen clambered up on the bed and positioned himself above her.

“Wait, let me do something for you too,” Delilah said hastily, gesturing.

“No need,” he murmured. He kissed her hard, and she could taste herself on his lips. “You don’t have to unless you really want to.”

“In that case, never mind,” she chuckled, quietly relieved. She didn’t mind returning the favor, but she had to admit that she was incredibly impatient to get to the good part of all this. They kissed again as Cullen positioned himself at her entrance, and slowly, achingly pushed inside.

They both let out a mutual groan of satisfaction at the sweet friction. Delilah’s fingernails scraped down Cullen’s chest as his hips achieved a steady rhythm; his hands slid up the sides of her neck to cradle her head. He kissed her tenderly as his fingers traced up along the edges of her ears, and Delilah gave an unrestrained whine into his mouth. She felt his lips smile against hers.

An indeterminate amount of time passed like that, each of them doing their best to elicit shivering pleasure from one another, before the heat really began to build in both of their cores. Cullen’s head dipped to bite at her throat again, and she cried out from both pain and pleasure. “C-Cullen,” she stuttered. “If you keep that up I’m going to-” She cut off as he bit again, harder, no doubt leaving vivid purple bruising in his wake.

“Flip over,” he breathed hoarsely against her throat, before he pulled away and slipped out of her. Delilah’s stomach flipped over and the command, but the idea of it sent shivers of anticipation over her. She did as asked, presenting her rear to him. One of his hands slid over her ass, stroking her skin before gripping at her hip. She felt him press against her entrance once again, and groaned raggedly as he slipped easily inside once more.

His movements were far less gentle now. His fingers dug into her skin, bringing her hips back to meet his with a sharp _smack_ each time. The new angle proved to be _very_ pleasurable, and Delilah’s hands scrabbled on the bed before grabbing fistfuls of the sheets. By now she was babbling a constant stream of elven, saying something along the lines of “oh creators, yes Cullen, please more, _harder_ …”

Cullen, who couldn’t possibly know the exact things she was saying besides his own name, seemed to at least get the gist of it. His movements became harsher, more desperate, and his hot breath spilled over Delilah’s back. He kissed the vallaslin that lined her back, following her spine. He leaned over her as his movements became jerky, and her voice rose in pitch as the muscles in her lower abdomen began spasming. She gave a stuttering cry and clenched hard around him as the pleasure burst within her; at the same time, Cullen’s hips jerked hard into her and faltered as he too found his release with a groan.

They stayed like that for a moment, still rocking gently against one another as they rode out their climaxes. Then they slowly relaxed, and Cullen pulled free and collapsed on the bed next to her. Delilah lay still on the mattress, panting hard. Their hands entwined, and Cullen kissed her knuckles softly as they both waited for their heartbeats to slow.

“Well,” Cullen said at length. “That was…”

“Exciting?” Delilah suggested with a smile. The warrior smiled back.

“I was going to say extraordinary,” he replied.

“Better than last time?”

“Exponentially so,” he murmured, and kissed her warmly. She hummed against his lips.

“If it’s so much better on only our second time, imagine how much better it will get in the future,” she chuckled. His smile widened.

“You foresee more of this in our future?”

“Mmmm…I kind of like the way you say ‘our future’,” the elf admitted with a shy smile. Cullen brushed away a strand of her blonde hair that had stuck to the sweat on her forehead.

“It has been…a very long time since I allowed anybody this close,” he admitted in a more serious tone. “I didn’t want anyone this close, especially after what happened at the Circle in Ferelden.” Delilah nodded in understanding. “I didn’t think I could ever come to terms with it enough to allow a relationship, no matter how serious. If I ever daydreamed about my future, I never pictured myself with an elf, let alone a mage. Not that I regret it,” he added hastily. “Maker’s breath, that came out wrong-”

“I know what you meant,” Delilah reassured him. “I didn’t see myself with a human, let alone one who used to be a templar, especially after templars killed my father.”

Cullen propped himself up on an elbow, eyebrows raised in shock. “Your father was killed by templars?” he said incredulously. Delilah grimaced.

“Yes but I…I don’t want to talk about it here,” she said, stroking his stubbled cheek. “I don’t want to ruin the mood.” After a moment, he relented and laid back down with her.

“Back to the original point,” he sighed, “I never thought I’d ever have something this wonderful, like what I’ve found here, with the Inquisition and with you. We’re making a real, tangible difference; not to mention that I am no longer reliant upon lyrium.” Here, his voice tinged with pride, and Delilah smiled.

“I’m glad you’re better,” she said softly. “Seeing you in pain was hard for everybody.”

“I know.” Cullen kissed her forehead before pulling the bedspread up over them both to ward off the chill in the air. Delilah nestled close and laid her head on his shoulder.

“I wish I didn’t have to leave tomorrow,” she sighed. “Are you sure these Templars won’t just fall off of the edge of the map on their own?”

Cullen’s chuckle rumbled through his chest next to her ear. “I’m fairly certain they won’t,” he replied. “I wish you didn’t have to go, either, but Empress Celene insisted that the Inquisition see to the red templar issue personally, didn’t she?”

“Yes. Josephine is quite insistent as well.” Delilah ran her fingertips lightly through the coppery hairs that spread over his chest. “Speaking of Josephine, she actually lost at Wicked Grace tonight.”

This earned another chuckle. “Oh? Did you finally beat her?”

“No, Bull took the pot.”

“Ah, better luck next time.” Cullen kissed the top of her head and wrapped his other arm around her waist.

“I told Josie that you told me her tells, but she insists that she has none, and that even if she did, you wouldn’t be able to pick up on them,” Delilah said casually. The ex-templar snorted.

“That woman is a liar,” he scoffed. “A skilled diplomat, to be sure, but a liar when it comes to card games.”

Delilah laughed at that. “I’ll be sure to tell her you think so.”

“What, that she’s a liar?”

“No, that she’s a skilled diplomat. That will make her day for sure, that you think so highly of her.”

Cullen _hmph_ ’d into her hair. “Apparently you’re not a bad diplomat yourself. Or is that sneaky twisting of words Lelilana’s influence I hear?”

“Both.”

The lovers chuckled together for a moment before falling silent. Cullen yawned. “Come, it’s late,” he mumbled. His voice was already growing hoarse from exhaustion. “You leave early in the morning, you ought to sleep.”

Conceding that he was right, Delilah simply snuggled closer into the softness of the blanket and the warmth of his embrace.

“Goodnight, vhenas” she murmured.

“Goodnight, Delilah.”


End file.
